


Cut From The Same Cloth

by PiousMage



Series: Fire Emblem Trans Week 2020 [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: F/F, Haircuts, Post-Canon, also l'arachel: "oh my god she's even hotter now", l'arachel: "noo don't chop all your hair off aha you're so sexy aha", trans!Eirika, trans!L'Arachel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25364596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiousMage/pseuds/PiousMage
Summary: Eirika is having that impulse that all members of the gay community know so well: the impulse to chop all your hair off. Her partner, L'Arachel, loves her enough to take a break from her duties as the Queen of Rausten to give her lover a haircut.
Relationships: Eirika/L'Arachel (Fire Emblem)
Series: Fire Emblem Trans Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833706
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22
Collections: Fire Emblem Trans Week 2020!





	Cut From The Same Cloth

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNINGS:
> 
> \- There are some explicit descriptions of dysphoria in the first paragraph.

Eirika fidgeted a bit. She sat in an ornate chair, with an ornate mirror in front of her, and in that mirror she saw every detail of herself that she did not like. Her shoulders felt far too broad ("all the more fitting for the burdens you have chosen to carry," L'Arachel would say), her face felt far too long ("so many places for me to kiss," L'Arachel would say), and her body itself felt far too tall and awkward ("how else would I retrieve things from high shelves," L'Arachel would say). She took a deep breath. It had been a long time before she had let her anxieties get the better of her like that. She met her own eyes in the mirror. Nothing about her appearance had changed at all, but she felt a confidence now that she hadn't felt earlier. After all, the people of Magvel spoke of her in hushed and reverent tones as the Restoration Queen, even though she had renounced her claim to the Renais throne. She had helped to seal away an ancient evil. She deserved to feel proud of herself.

"Having a staring contest?" It was L'Arachel, Queen of Rausten, carrying in a box of tools that Eirika couldn't make heads or tails of. "I can understand that. I do get lost in your eyes all the time."

L'Arachel liked to say that she and Eirika had been "cut from the same cloth," in more ways than one. Both had been born into noble families. Both had lost family members and loved ones. Both had once been princes, but that title and all the trappings associated with it had suited neither of them. The one difference in the two is that L'Arachel had discarded that title far sooner in her youth than Eirika did. As a result, Eirika sometimes felt as if she were playing catch-up with her partner, a game she was fated never to win. Eirika was sometimes left wondering how things would have been had she had that fateful realization sooner. Whenever she lamented about this, L'Arachel always told her the same thing: "The only thing that matters is that you are your true self now, and it is beautiful no matter what."

"It's nothing," Eirika lied. "It has just been some time since I have seen myself in a mirror." She held a hand up to her own face and cupped her cheek. "I can see the toll that the war took on me."

"That's because," L'Arachel shot back, "you have probably been neglecting your skincare routine. You simply must do it without fail every day or it will have no effect! It is a _crime_ to allow skin as absolutely wonderful as yours to ever enter any state of disrepair."

Eirika sighed. She had a point, but that "skincare routine" L'Arachel described felt so complex and impenetrable sometimes. It was far too much to keep track of on a daily basis. These days, Eirika was lucky to remember to wash her face at all. She turned towards L'Arachel, who had folded her arms and was managing to make an expression that communicated in equal levels her disappointment in Eirika's lack of a skincare routine and her boundless, endless love for her. It was honestly a sight to behold.

"You're staring again," L'Arachel said, unable to keep herself from cracking a smile that turned into a full grin when Eirika blushed. "Be careful. If you stare too long, you'll risk going blind!"

At that, Eirika laughed. Her nerves were easing a bit, as they always did when L'Arachel was around. It was why Eirika had chosen to make the move to Rausten, after all. They had tried something resembling a long-distance relationship after the war had ended, but once L'Arachel had taken the Rausten throne it became unbearable. Eirika knew (or, at least, she hoped) that she was leaving Renais in good hands, but her brother was a one-in-a-million kind of person, and she prayed nightly that his retainers would keep him out of trouble, especially now that he was King. Her place was by her own Queen's side, although it was still difficult on those days when L'Arachel's duties as queen took precedence over her duties as a lover.

L'Arachel always made up for lost time, though. Even now, as she ran a comb through Eirika's hair. "I know I have asked you this several times," she said as Eirika leaned back into the pleasant feeling, "but are you absolutely sure about this, Eirika?"

"I have given it much thought," Eirika said, her eyes closed, "and I am certain of my decision. I feel that I have progressed far enough in my personal journey that I no longer need to lean on the length of my hair to affect how others perceive me." She actually didn't feel that way, at least not a hundred percent. However, she had long since accepted that the self-doubt never fully goes away. L'Arachel had told her that when they first spoke of childhoods and adolescences. She had said that its presence only gives you more reason to affirm what you truly are. It gives you something to prove wrong. And Eirika was trying very hard to prove it wrong.

"I have known you long enough and well enough to recognize the resolve in your voice. Very well! I will give you a look that befits the Queen Consort of Rausten!" L'Arachel combed Eirika's hair with a flourish. "And I will ensure that no soul in this land will ever mistake you for your brute of a brother."

"L'Arachel!"

L'Arachel laughed. It sounded like music. "Worry not, my love. I speak only in jest of my beloved brother-in-law." She ran her fingers through Eirika's hair, and Eirika melted only a little bit. "However, you must admit that there is at least an ounce of truth to my words."

"I refuse to entertain this discussion," Eirika declared, although it was very hard for her not to smile as well.

"Now, on to more important things. Would you like to watch my expert handiwork as it happens, or," L'Arachel walked over and spun the mirror to face away from them, "would you prefer the element of surprise?"

To tell the truth, Eirika had planned to ask for the mirror to be put away from the start. It made her uncomfortable when she was asked to reckon with herself for too long a period of time. "I trust your judgment and your expertise, my queen. Although, may I ask you one question?"

"You may ask me as many questions as you like, for I always love to hear your voice."

"Have you ever cut someone else's hair before?" Eirika regretting not having asked this sooner, as all it took was an offhand mention of wanting to chop her hair off for L'Arachel to take it upon herself to be the one who cuts it for her. Only now was Eirika realizing, as L'Arachel held a pair of shears in her hand, that she had never once questioned L'Arachel's "expertise."

"Of course! I cut Dozla's hair all the time." L'Arachel frowned. "Rennac only let me do it once, though, but he's a notoriously picky man."

Eirika had grown used to Dozla's presence at the castle, and she had honestly come to appreciate his extremely unique brand of...being. Still, the thought of having a cut like his gave her some cause for concern. She still, on occasion, had nightmares about having a beard.

She took a deep breath. L'Arachel would not let any undue harm come to her appearance. She trusted in that and closed her eyes.

"That's all, L'Arachel. You may begin."

* * *

"Well? Are you ready?" L'Arachel was standing in front of Eirika again, and Eirika was legitimately stunned by the expression on her face. It was the same expression that she'd had at the winter harvest festival, right before Eirika had opened her gift, a beautiful bracelet with a setting for the ruby that L'Arachel had given her so long ago. She still wore it now, and treasured it like precious little else in her life.

"I take it from the look on your face that you are proud of your work."

"Far be it from me to say this, my love, but I truly have outdone myself this time. Were I not the Queen of Rausten, I believe I could carve out a respectable career as a beautician."

Another chuckle from Eirika. Her earlier anxiety had evaporated completely. "Don't get carried away, now. Your country needs its queen."

"How fortunate for my country to have two queens, then," and L'Arachel leaned down to give one of those queens a kiss. She had been resisting that urge for quite some time, but she at least wanted to wait until the haircut was done.

With a flourish (there was little, if anything at all, that L'Arachel did _without_ a flourish), she spun the mirror back around and let Eirika take in the spectacle.

Eirika met her own eyes again, and then she allowed them to drift up to her hair. It was not a style she'd ever seen before. Both sides of her head had been shaved almost to the scalp, but the hair on the top of her head was still long enough to frame the top half of her face. She took a hand and gingerly felt the side of her head. It felt somewhat like petting L'Arachel's horse. She ran a hand through her hair. It felt...liberating. She quite liked the way it looked.

"Well?" L'Arachel said, knowing full well the answer from the expression of awe on Eirika's face. "This is one of the trendier hairstyles among the commoners of Rausten. I have been trying to acculturate myself as one of my queenly duties."

"I was wondering what you were up to with that razor."

"Brilliance, of course! What else would you expect from me?"

Eirika turned her eyes away from the mirror and looked at L'Arachel. "Nothing less. Come, let's find Dozla. I'm sure he'll get a kick out of this."

L'Arachel clapped her hands in delight. "Ooh, that's a splendid idea!" She took Eirika's hand and pulled her out of the chair, kissing her again. "I daresay, Eirika, you look even more ravishing than before, and that is an accomplishment."

The high of seeing herself like this gave Eirika the confidence to say something she otherwise never would have entertained the thought of saying. "Well, I suppose I will have to ravish you at some point in order to fit that bill."

it was L'Arachel's turn to go beet red. For once, she had nothing to say, and in the silence Eirika hugged her tightly. They walked out of the room, hand in hand, queen and queen.


End file.
